


Catch!

by mssrj_335



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Catch Test, Chuck's a dick and doesn't know how to do feelings, Developing Relationship, Drunk on the Beach, Feelings Realization, Fix-It of Sorts, Implied Raleigh/Mako, Language, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, POV Chuck Hansen, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Pre-Relationship, Scheming, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: A short look at Chuck's evolving thoughts on Raleigh Beckett. And one silly drunk bet.
Relationships: Raleigh Becket/Chuck Hansen, Raleigh Becket/Chuck Hansen/Mako Mori
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Catch!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCarrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/gifts).



> just a funny idea i had talking with thecarrot about raleigh being a lightweight and chuck being an idiot lol

Stacker Pentecost was a big damn hero, right up to the end. So much so that Tendo Choi, restlessly keeping an eye out for _Gipsy Danger's_ jettisoned crew, found not two but three escape pods floating in the Pacific.

Mako, Raleigh, both accounted for.

And in the third, Chuck Hansen. Stacker's last gift to an old friend.

Chuck wouldn't call it guilt to anyone's face, but that's exactly what eats away at him at night. Guilt over his father's injury. Pentecost's death. Mako's grief. All the jaeger pilots and people lost. He could've done more. Should've. He should've been with Pentecost to the end. He saw him go for the pod release, but he didn't stop it, did he? That arrogant streak in him turns sour with what-ifs and should-haves. And it eats and eats and eats at him until he's ready to fall apart.

Until he's standing at the edge of a catwalk, wondering what it'd be like to fall. 

But salvation finds him once again. This time, somehow, from an even more unsuspecting source.

"I used to see guys looking like that on the Wall."

Chuck starts and whips around. Eyes narrowed, but he doesn't see anyone. Just the skeleton of _Gipsy Avenger_ , speaking to him like a ghost. He knows that voice though.

"Looking like what, exactly?" he sneers, throwing up that hateful face like a shield.

There's a hiss and a clang, boots hitting the catwalk grates. Raleigh goddamn Beckett emerges from the dim light. Chuck's immediately ready for a fight; the last time he saw Beckett one-on-one was a fight anyway. Might as well pick up where they left off. Except Beckett's hands are shoved in his pockets, head ducked in a way that could be non-threatening. But it's the pinch of his brow, the look on his face, that really gives Chuck pause.

"Lookin' like the ground is a better option than another day on ration cards and heavy work."

Chuck's sneer pulls up over his teeth, angry at having been made so easily by someone who doesn't give a shit. "Them Wall crawlers drop like flies. Don't have the backbone to do what needs to be done."

Beckett's eyes narrow and his lips pinch at the corner. "Not every brave man pilots a jaeger. And not a single pilot makes it through what we do without being affected."

Chuck crosses his arms, swallows hard. What in the christ is he supposed to say to that? "The best do. Haven't got a care in the world since we _saved_ the fuckin' thing."

Beckett's hands come out of his pockets then, and he takes a few steps forward. Chuck's fists ball at his sides, arms twitching to swing, but _fuck_ those blue, blue eyes see right through him.

"You can say that as long as you want," Beckett murmurs, pitched just low enough for him and no one else to hear. There's not even anyone around but the fact doesn't escape Hansen's notice. "You can say it 'til you're blue in the fuckin' face." Beckett leans in a little closer, like he's sharing a secret. "But one of these days it's gonna hurt more than just you. That's not what you want, is it?"

"Fuck you, you don't know what I want," Chuck hisses. But the truth of it cuts right to his core. All at once, Beckett is way to fucking close. So he shoves. Hard. Hands connect before he can even think and Beckett takes two big steps back. Christ almighty but Chuck just wants to lay him out. Put a cut right on that high cheekbone and watch him bleed just because. There's no _reason_ to be this angry. He just wants to put it somewhere and Beckett looks like just the place.

But Beckett doesn't rise to the bait. Instead, he cocks his head and bites the inside of his lip, considering in a way that makes Chuck feel like he's under a fucking microscope. All the wind leaves his sails. All the energy still tingles just under his skin until Beckett says,

"You're right, I don't know what you want. I don't think you do either. But I'm pretty sure we both know that you don't really want to be a smear on the foot of a jaeger for someone to clean up."

Silence.

"Go back downstairs, Hansen. Go to your bunk. Beat the shit out of a pillow or go to the training room and do it there. You gotta put that anger somewhere and here's not the place to do it."

Chuck opens his mouth. Closes it—clack. It's strange to hear some of his thoughts echoed back and a part of him wants to argue. Goad Beckett into a fight and see where it goes from there. But the pilot stands firm between him and the end of the walk, stoic and underlit in violent yellow light. So as much as he wants to argue, Chuck's shoulders fall. He doesn't say a word, just turns on his heel. Leaving those icy blue eyes high in the sky where they can't pick him apart any more. Down every stair, his anger recedes piece by piece. In his bunk, he doesn't beat the shit out of his pillow. All his anger has evaporated. Now, he's just tired. So he kicks off his boots, stares at the ceiling and wonders. Puzzles until he can't keep his eyes open anymore on the problem of Raleigh Beckett.

* * *

From then on, Chuck takes notice of Beckett more often. It's not on purpose but fuck if it doesn't happen frequently. At first, it's just picking him out of a crowd. As soon as he steps into the Shatterdome mess hall, his eyes are looking for familiar blue. At first, it's to avoid the pilot at all costs. Chuck feels too seen, too open and vulnerable under that calculating gaze, so aversion is priority number one. To be honest, it drives him fucking mad. But the problem is Beckett's not helping. It starts as aversion until Raleigh finds him staring and has the audacity to smile. Well, maybe. Chuck's not even sure that's what it was, it's there and gone so fast he's sure he imagined it. Until Beckett does it again as they pass in the hallway.

Then the pilot rolls up at dinner. And again. Always very pointedly talking to Herc Hansen, only occasionally asking, "What's your take on it, Chuck?"

It could be any goddamn topic, from jaeger training to repair to brands of beer or even cereal. Always Herc first, asking Chuck's opinion before breezing off again like he hadn't just thrown the younger Hansen into a tailspin. Before this, Chuck could count on one hand the number of times someone had asked his opinion and really wanted it. Then Beckett starts waiting patiently, hands in his pockets, body open and eyes front until Chuck manages to get something out. When he gets an answer, Beckett nods sagely, sometimes hums to himself before he goes back to whatever it is he was doing before. The first few times, vitriol was all Chuck had to offer. But a smack upside the head from his father fixed that at least once. Then the expression on Beckett's face fixed the rest. Chuck's not sure he really knows what patience looks like but he thinks it might be the way Raleigh looks at him as he waits for an answer.

All Chuck can do when he leaves is watch him go.

Then the bastard starts to _stay_.

He plops down at dinner across from Chuck like it's the most natural place for him to be. Mako always comes with—the two are almost goddamn inseparable—and sits next to him. And _then_ they have the audacity to make conversation. How's training the new cadets going? When's the next patrol going to be? What's the latest news from the mainland? It goes on and on like this until all the jaeger pilots plunk down at _Chuck's_ own table and suddenly it's like a family affair. Because that's how Beckett is. He's warm and inviting and all the new recruits flock to him and Mako. She's softened him so much, and opened up herself in a way she never did when Pentecost still walked. She's a wonder on her own but Beckett...

Goddamn it, sometimes he's breathtaking.

Chuck absolutely stutters to a halt the first time he feels a little twinge. But Beckett's got his head thrown back laughing at something one of the recruits said. The creases at the corners of his eyes dig deep and the way he smiles just—

Hansen can't even handle it. He gets up without a word and storms off. Absolutely unwilling to deal with any of _that_ shit in the middle of a goddamn training session. The problem is, Beckett finds him later, right where he found him the first time.

"Thought you might be up here," Beckett calls.

He's still half a flight down but Chuck can see him through the catwalk grating. He sighs to himself, deep and gusty, before he straightens out. His back had a cramp anyway from leaning over the railing like he was.

"Didn't ask you to come looking for me," he throws back. "Maybe I wanted to sit up here by my lonesome for a while, avoid your ugly mug." Beckett grins at that; Chuck shakes his head. "Burns the eyes after a while, your face."

"Noted." A pause; there's that calculating look again. "You good?"

And because Chuck's actually gotten used to giving it, he honestly says, "Yeah. Nothing to worry your head about."

"Hm," is all Beckett says at first. "Want me to stay?"

Abruptly, Chuck's throat feels a bit tight. That...cuts him deep. He glances down to find Beckett's bright blue eyes waiting patiently for his answer, as always. Something shifts in his chest then. He doesn't have a name for it yet but it feels terrifyingly new. So he swallows it down and says instead, "Nah. Fuck off, why dontcha."

Raleigh snorts but he waits a moment more. Then shakes his head, grinning to himself. "Enjoy your brooding then, Batman."

Chuck sputters as the pilot turns to leave, trundling back down the stairs the way he came. "'m not _brooding_ , asshole."

Raleigh laughs, flips him off over his shoulder but doesn't say anything more—quite suddenly, Chuck really does want him to stay.

And that, apparently, is the beginning of the end.

* * *

This is a wonderful, terrible idea.

He's not even sure how it's happened.

All Raleigh's doing, no doubt. Some kind of team bonding exercise for the new recruits. All well and good, plenty of fun—a bonfire on the beach, what could go wrong? There's music, food, booze. Everyone seems to be having a grand ole time.

Especially Raleigh fucking Beckett.

He's had his head put together with Mako for about half an hour now, furtively sending looks Chuck's way. He's not slick, not even the in slightest, and Chuck's dying to know what the pair are scheming. But he can't just go over and _ask_ , can he? Because they're sitting on the other side of the bonfire and the way Raleigh looks in the firelight has Chuck's brain tying itself in knots. The pilot's only knocked back a couple shots but shit hit _quick_. Maybe it was the Russian twins' home brew putting him on his ass but Chuck's drinking the stuff and it's not quite the same.

Who knew the bastard was a lightweight?

Must've been all those years on ration cards. Chuck certainly didn't fucking know or he might've skipped this whole thing altogether. Because Raleigh looks too good right now and he's clingy to boot. His cheeks are tinged pink, smile wide and welcoming and warm as the summer night. He's instigated a rousing round of truth or dare that Chuck barely managed to avoid. Run headlong into the ocean at least twice. Mako fished him out once but the second time she was almost as tipsy as Raleigh and just laid in the sand shouting after him. So Chuck reeled him in himself. A very large, very stupid part of him decided he would be very sad if Raleigh were to actually drown. He ended up soaked but wrangled Raleigh back to the fire. Which would've been fine except when they staggered through the sand, the pilot threw an arm around Chuck's back like it was nothing. Like the fingers at the small of his back didn't make Chuck shake. When they sat down on the driftwood bench together, Raleigh leaned right into him. And he _stayed_ like that, pressed knee to shoulder together, murmuring his thoughts just for Chuck to hear.

"I like Doma and Deva," Raleigh said. "They make a good brew. I think they're gonna be good, don't you?"

Chuck swallowed thick, caught in the water dripping down Raleigh's face. "Yeah, think so," is all he managed before jumping up for another drink. It's an excuse and it'll settle his nerves.

Probably.

Now, Raleigh and Mako sit together. He keeps nodding. She keeps shaking her head. There's a familiar stubborn line between his eyebrows and Chuck balks to think he actually knows what that look means. He shakes his head at himself, stares off into the fire for a while, trying not to think. Oh, this is bad. He’s just boozy enough that the longer he tries not to think, the more he wants to know what they're whispering about. How much time they really spend together. If Raleigh knows what Mako's mouth feels like. If Mako knows how Raleigh looks naked in bed. For an instant, he's embroiled in equal parts lust and jealousy. Then,

"Oh, fuck."

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

He wants. Specifically Raleigh. _Bad_. Both of them would be great but _Raleigh_ —

"Goddamn it."

Chuck doesn't even think. He shoots his shot, jumps to his feet. He's gotta get out of there now. Like _now_ now. Where's the car? How far was it back to the Shatterdome? He's not even sure, he just starts marching in some direction through the sand and away from the startling realization that he may have actually caught feelings for Raleigh fucking Beckett until—

"Hey Chuck! Catch!"

Hansen whirls on his heel. Hands up without even thinking about it. Expecting a ball or bottle or anything other than a sudden armful of ranger.

"Raleigh!" He grunts, staggers under the weight a bit. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

The answer doesn't really matter. The pilot's arms grip tight around his neck, thighs sturdy around his waist. It takes a solid three seconds for Chuck to realize he's basically holding Beckett up by his ass. Immediately, his mind plays dirty. This...this is good. Yes, good is a word for what this is. Hands on learning experience right here. And Raleigh's looking at him like—

"Oh shit, you caught me."

His blue, blue eyes are wide and surprised. Pretty lips pouting in an 'o' very _very_ close to Chuck's own. Well, that's a fucking problem. Chuck is just too surprised to care.

"Well yeah, ya dickhead, what'd you think I was gonna do?"

“I—Mako and me made a bet. I said you'd drop me."

Chuck sputters and spews, searching for a smart-ass remark even if his hands already found a smart ass.

Then, "Told you!" rings out over the beach, followed by a loud peal of delighted laughter and Chuck absolutely panics.

He sees Mako over Raleigh's shoulder, clapping happily and laughing her ass off. Instantly, it's hands off. Raleigh wanted to be dropped; that's exactly what Chuck tries to do. Except Raleigh's legs are too secure around his waist and arms too fixed. All the letting go in the world wouldn't get Raleigh Beckett off him. It does, however, throw off the pilot's balance.

"Hey! Don’t—"

"Get off—"

Chuck wriggles forward, Raleigh leans back, and Hansen's feet go right out from under him with the weight. Together, they topple over into the sand. His chin hits Beckett's chest, Raleigh's knee goes into his side, Mako shrieks with laughter—all of a sudden, Raleigh's spread out beneath him. Still warm. Still surprised. For a second, Chuck's brain doesn't work at all. He can't even think. Then Raleigh starts laughing too, hard. Full-bellied, genuine laughter. Embarrassment burns through him.

"You fucking fuckwit, get offa me," Chuck grumbles, trying and failing to extricate himself from all of Beckett's limbs. "Hope you lost a shitton of money."

"Wait!" Raleigh wheezes. "Hold on a second!"

Chuck's not having it, he tries so hard to get out of the mess, but Raleigh's ankles cross around the backs of his knees. He pulls; Chuck falls right in. Right into the crux of Raleigh's hips and he freezes. Oh fuck. Oh _fuck,_ that—that feels—

"I'm not laughin' at you," Raleigh chuckles, trying to get his breath back.

"Sure as shit sounds like you are," Chuck grumbles. Braced as he is over Raleigh's shoulders makes it hard to sound mad but damn he is trying.

"I promise I'm not. Just—if I let you go, don't run off on me, ok?"

Finally, Chuck manages to look at him. Look down at him, more specifically. All the proximity and the firelight, it's really _doing_ things to him but Raleigh doesn't need to know that.

"Ok."

With a sigh, Raleigh lets his legs drop. Chuck would never admit he misses the sensation so he rolls off and into the sand, settling stiff at the pilot's side. He glances sideways. Raleigh's watching him, still smiling, but his eyes look a bit more calculating than before.

"That was a stupid fucking bet," Chuck grouses.

"It was." Raleigh doesn't bother to deny it but he doesn't sound repentant either. "Made a point though. Guess Mako was right."

Chuck narrows his eyes. "About what?"

Raleigh wets his lip; Chuck stares. That's just not fair.

"You like us. You like _me_. Enough to catch me anyway."

Protests die in his throat, thrown at having been made so easily. It's just like the fucking catwalk. Even tipsy and hazy, those blue eyes see right through him.

"Hey, it's ok, you know. I like you too. A _lot_ , actually. You’re not bad for being a giant dick.”

Somehow, the admission eases a tightness in his chest he didn't know was there.

"Come back, sit with us. Have another drink and see where the night goes, huh?"

For the first time in maybe his whole life, Chuck Hansen is speechless. Does he want to do just that? Yes. Absolutely. Does he still feel shaky on this whole _feelings_ thing? For fucking sure. But... There's a promise and an invitation in those blue eyes that looks too good to pass up. Raleigh stumbles to his feet, holds out a hand. For the first time, Chuck actually takes what's offered. Raleigh almost looks surprised, but it's more pleased than anything. Even more surprising, he doesn't let go of Chuck's hand. Instead pulls him to the fire. Leans into him again from knee to shoulder. The look he shares with Mako makes _something_ flutter in Chuck's gut. It's not at all what he expected but some part of him realizes it might be what he needs.

Another salvation just waiting to happen.

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday love


End file.
